


heart and soul

by amemorymaze



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Boy Scouts, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4766270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amemorymaze/pseuds/amemorymaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>He turns his head and looks back at Harry. They’re ever so close; Louis can feel the way Harry’s breath hitches against his lips and he sees the way Harry’s gaze keeps flickering down to Louis’ lips. </i><br/><i>The air is heavy between them, filled with static - as if a single breath could break it.</i><br/><br/>(or the one where they're all scouts and it's a weekend of mischief, pining and being in love.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	heart and soul

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you like this! i know it's not boy scouts - like american boy scouts because i know nothing about that. so this is english scouts which is what i do know things about (my dad is a scout leader). it's not 100% accurate but i've done my best - i've been on a few family camps and a few guide camps but that's it but i know the general logistics. ummmm, i actually wanted to write something MUCH MUCH MUCH longer :( but as it's a pinch hit, i never got the chance but maybe one day i'll write something much longer with more of the boys in tents and being dumb and being in loooooove. but yeah anyway! i hope you enjoy it!!

**now.**

“This is it, boys,” Louis shouts, throwing an arm over Liam’s shoulder; “The weekend of our lives. This is our _time_.”

“If you say so,” Zayn says, laughing as Niall runs up to him and jumps on his back (Zayn catches him without a second thought).

“A weekend of freedom!” Louis shouts with a slight skip in his step.

Liam rolls his eyes but there’s a grin on his face; “That’s if you don’t get us banned from Go-Karting like last time.”

Louis reaches over and pinches Liam’s nipple; “That was a joint effort that was, Payno. I can’t take all the credit now, can I lads?”

“Yeah, Li,” Niall says, “I didn’t steal all of that whipped cream for nothin’, did I?”

Harry laughs and Louis turns to him with a smile on his lips; something small and secretive and _theirs._

 

 

**then.**

It is with a crash, a shout and a groan that he first meets Harry Styles.

Louis’s not entirely sure how it happened; one moment he was surrounded by his friends, gliding along the grass on the sledge, wind whipping in his face, and the next he’s face first in a heap on the ground with a body slumped across him.

“Oops,” The boy says and lifts himself up slightly, giving Louis room to turn onto his back and causing him to catch the gaze of the boy who had completely wiped him out. Face to face; bright blue eyes catching green and neither of them speak. His mind has gone blank, the two of them just breathing in sync as they stare.

“Hi,” Louis begins before he blinks and a smirk crosses his face; “You could’ve asked before taking me out, y’know?”

Harry lets out a burst of laughter, groaning as he lifts himself up; he’s covered in dirt and grass and doesn’t even attempt to brush it off of him. “Shit, I - ” he starts but as he looks down the slope he sees his sledge still moving down the hill; “Fuck, no.”

Louis sits up next to him, laughing, his eyes crinkling. “Karma, mate.”

Harry pokes his tongue out at the boy next to him with the hint of a smile on his face as he gets to his feet. He sighs to himself as he watches his  slowly come to a stop at the bottom of the run.

“I think this is the closest I’ve been to someone without knowing their name,” the boy says, smiling widely as his blue eyes shine.

“Is that a roundabout way of asking for my name?” Harry asks, his eyes glinting.

The boy’s grin grows and he just winks; “Louis Tomlinson.”

“Harry,” he says, his voice soft, “Harry Styles.”

“Well, Harry Styles,” Louis says, “I would shake your hand but you’re kind of on top of me.”

Harry rolls his eyes, his smile growing, “Well, whose fault is that?”

“We wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t crashed into me in the first place.”

Harry shrugs, “I wouldn’t exactly call it a mess.”

Clambering to his feet, Harry holds out a hand, helping Louis get to his feet. Digging the heel of his boots into the ground, he hauls Louis to his feet, grasping his shoulders to stop him from falling – _again._

“You good?” Harry asks with a twinkle in his eyes.

“I’m good, Styles,” he replies and shoots a grin at Harry, “you?”

“I’m wonderful,” he replies with his own cheeky smile on his face.

“Well,” Louis says, “It was a pleasure being taken out by you, but I’ve gotta catch up with my friends or they’ll think I’ve been killed by some curly-haired nutter or summat.”

Harry just laughs; “It was a pleasure taking you out.”

With a shout of laughter and a gust of wind, Louis’ gone.

 

 

 **now.**  

There’s a fair bit of shouting, a yelp, a crash and then silence before Louis comes running away from their mess of a (collapsed) tent, laughing.

“C’mon, Haz,” he says, grinning as he grabs Harry’s arm; “Let’s go get firewood.”

“But I haven’t done _my_ tent yet…”

“Neither,” Louis says, “And if I don’t get further away from Liam ASAP, he’s gonna kill me and I can’t get firewood _on my own,_ Harold.”

“Just go,” Niall says, before Harry even gets the chance to turn round to him; “I’m gonna get Liam to help anyway, he’s always the best at this stuff.”

“Thanks, Ni,” Harry says, kissing Niall on the cheek before skipping away with Louis towards the forest.

Bounding towards the trees, they’re laughing as they make it into a race. Pushing and pulling at each other like they always do until they break through the treeline, gasping for breath.

“Haz,” Louis says as he slumps down onto the ground, laying amongst the sparse grass and dirt. “Harold, come here.”

“Thought we were supposed to be collecting wood?” Harry asks but falling down to the ground nonetheless. Pillowing his head on Louis’ chest, he sighs.

Louis laughs and Harry can feel the vibrations through his chest; “Nah,” Louis says, “Simon got the younger kids to do that already.”

“What are we doing then?” Harry asks, looking up at Louis from under his lashes - pretends he doesn’t notice the way Louis’ breath hitches in his chest and waits for an answer.

“I don’t know, Harry,” Louis answer finally, maintaining constant eye contact without flinching as the breeze picks up slightly; “I don’t know.”

 

 

**then.**

“Fuck,” is the first thing Harry had said to Louis Tomlinson the second time he meets him – a meeting that is eerily similar to the first.

He has tent poles in his arms as he walks along the ice-covered path towards the scout hut, slipping and sliding on the ice, barely managing to catch his balance. It’s as he steps onto an uneven bit of paving that it happens.

Harry finds himself sliding, his trainers unable to help him balance with their lack of grip as he loses control of his feet. He forgets all about the poles he had been holding until he hears them crashing into something (or someone) and clatter to the ground.

Sitting on his bum in the grass on the side of the path, Harry feels a blush cover his cheeks as he looks up with his green eyes wide open in horror.

“A heads up would’ve been nice,” a voice says and Harry gaze catches piercing blue eyes; “Before, you know, almost hitting me in the head and knocking me out with your tent.”

Harry stutters, recognising that face – those eyes; “I’m so sorry,” he begins with a shaky voice; “I –”

But before Harry can continue, a smile is crossing the boys face and he’s laughing as he holds his hand out to help him get to his feet, “It’s alright, mate, I was paying attention so I managed to duck. I see you aren’t much better on your feet than you are on those grass sledges.”

Reaching out, Harry grasps Louis’ hand, wincing slightly as he gets to his feet; “I told you! I panicked!”

Louis just laughs once again, the sound contagious as it causes Harry to smile himself. “You keep tellin’ yourself that.”

Harry feels the grin pulling at his lips as he gathers his poles together, “I will, thank you very much.”

Louis turns away, heading back to his friend but before he reaches him, he looks back at Harry over his shoulder, “So, since you’re here and all… I’m gonna assume you’re joining our troop.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, grinning, “Step-dad got a new job so I get a new school. Figured I’d find a Scout Troop to join to, y’know, help.”

“Well,” Louis says, throwing an arm over Harry’s shoulder as they walk towards the small building; “We’d be lucky to have you, Styles

 

**now.**

They’re by the lake, the freezing water glimmering in the moonlight as they smoke from a hastily rolled up joint. The smoke twirls in their faces, the only source of warmth in the typical british summer weather.

Niall laughs at something Louis says but Harry’s too busy focusing on the way his hands look in the slightly murky water to focus on what was said. The way his fingertips change colour and distort under the water makes his eyes grow wide and he smiles to himself.

Then there’s suddenly a body draped next to him and Harry turns onto his back, the wooden planks uncomfortable as he lays there. And soon enough, Louis is piling himself on top of Harry, straddling his thighs, grinning through the joint in his mouth.

“Hey, Hazza,” Louis says, eyes bright as he leans close, whispering into Harry’s mouth; “Want a hit?”

Harry just grins lazily and shrugs as Louis sucks on the joint, inhaling the smoke and burning the end of the paper a glowing orange. Harry knows exactly what he’s doing.

Leaning forward, Louis tries not to let the smoke escape between his lips before pressing impossibly close, thighs bracketing Harry’s, one hand cupping his neck before he presses their lips ever so close before exhaling the smoke from his lungs and into Harry’s.

They play it like a game - pushing the smoke between the two of them before there’s nothing left and it’s all escape from the gaps between their lips.

Lightheaded, Harry can’t help but smile as he rests his head back against the wood behind him before Louis leans down, pressing his chest against Harry’s and his lips to his neck.

A shiver runs down Harry’s spine and he doesn’t know if it’s from the cold or Louis’ touch - he suspects it could be both.  Harry can’t help but feel the tension between them, can’t help but feel this inexplicable pull towards Louis and for once he doesn’t resist it.

So he just lays there with Louis tucked into his body and rests a hand just underneath the cold t-shirt Louis’ wearing, right on his hip and stealing the warmth from Louis’ body.

 

 

**then.**

“A karaoke bar?” Niall says, laughing as they walk through the doorway; “You, Styles, are a genius.”

“Well,” Harry replies shrugging as Niall links his arm through his and drags him to the bar, “I don’t like to brag.”

Niall’s laugh sounds throughout the whole room as Kurt watches the rest of the group settle at a cluster of tables in the corner. Kurt smiles as he watches Louis eye up the piano, a wolfish grin plastered across his face.

“You have it so bad,” Niall says, startling Harry out of his thoughts, causing him to jump around in surprise, facing away from _him_ and back towards the bar.

Harry laughs quietly and shakes his head when there’s someone standing in front of him behind the bar; “What - who do you have it bad for?” Zayn asks, smiling.  

Harry freezes, eyes wide before Niall jumps in. “As if you don’t already know, Z.”

“Heyyy,” Harry drawls as he rolls his eyes, “I’m gonna need a lot more alcohol before I discuss this with the two of you.”

Zayn laughs, “Usual?”

“Of course,” Harry replies trying desperately hard not look over his shoulder and spy on his best friends because that would be _way too obvious._

“What’s going on between you and Tommo?” Niall asks after a few shots of Sambuca and some Vodka Lemonades.

“Nothing?” Harry says, eyes wide and astonished.

“Come on,” Zayn says, sighing, “You’ve never kissed? Hooked up? Nothing?”

“No,” Harry says, “Come off it, Zee, as if.”

Niall just shrugs; “Sure seems like something’s going on, at least.”

“Well nothing is, alright?” Harry snaps before looking up at Niall apologetically.

“Alright,” Niall says, hands raised as if in surrender, “Alright.”

 

 

**now.**

“I think I have a faulty bow,” Louis moans after another unsuccessful attempt at actually hitting somewhere on the target.

“As if,” Harry laughs before letting go of the string and getting, yet again, another bullseye.

“Bullshit,” Louis says, sulking, “How can you be so good at it?”

Harry smiles, “All natural talent, baby.”

Louis pulls an expression of mock annoyance, “If you’re not going to help, maybe I should just find another partner who will.”

Harry hits the target almost center once again, and runs off to collect his arrows when the instructor deems it safe before turning back to Louis, grinning, “Don’t worry, Lou, I’ll help you.

Harry gets back to their post and motions for Louis to come closer, “Come here, then,” he says.

Louis takes the bow and arrow from Harry and stands in position, getting ready to shoot. What he isn’t expecting is for Harry to come up behind him and putting his hands on Louis shoulder and hip.

Louis freezes, “What are you doing?”

“I thought you wanted my help?” Harry says, hands still on Louis’ body.

“I do,” Louis says, trying to keep the tremble from his voice.

“Just, trust me, okay?”

Louis just nods and allows Harry to move his body around for him, making sure he is in the right position.

“Okay, now, line it all up like you did before, yeah, like that and pull the arrow right up to your ear,” Louis does as Harry says, trying to focus  on the target and not the heat of Harry’s body behind him, “No, keep your elbow lifted,” Harry says, moving Louis’ elbow for him, his touch lingering slightly too long.

“Take a deep breath… Then let go.”

Louis let’s go of the arrow and to his surprise, it hits the target. It’s on the blue which is a hell of a lot better than he had been doing before.

“See, it’s not _that_ hard. Ready to try again?”

Louis laughs, “Yeah, this time I’m expecting you to help me get a bullseye.”

“You’re expectations are set too high, Lou.” Harry says, smiling at Louis’ enthusiasm.

Louis grabs another arrow and puts it in the bow and lifts it up again, aligning it with the target. He tries to get himself in the same position as before but Harry still stands behind him and adjusts his shoulders slightly before putting a hand over Louis’ on the bow and the other on his elbow.

“Look down the arrow and make sure it is pointing in the right direction,” he says, lifting Louis’ elbow from where it has drooped.

Harry crowds closer to Louis and he can feel Harry’s breath on the back of his neck.

“Relax, Louis,” Harry breathes into Louis’ ear, “Take a deep breath, and let go.”

But just as Louis lets go of the arrow, Harry moves his hands down to Louis’ sides, making Louis jerk the bow upwards slightly.

“Fuck,” Louis says, as the arrow goes way over the target.

He turns his head and looks back at Harry. They’re ever so close; Louis can feel the way Harry’s breath hitches against his lips and he sees the way Harry’s gaze keeps flickering down to Louis’ lips.

The air is heavy between them, filled with static - as if a single breath could break it.

“Tomlinson!” Cowell yells and Louis jumps back in surprise and everything’s changed and the moment’s lost.

 

 

**then.**

He’s drunk, like, really, extremely, can barely stand sort of drunk. He would blame Niall but if Harry’s being honest, it was a bit of a stupid idea to get into a drinking competition with an Irishman.

He’s giggling into Niall’s shoulder as they dance together, Harry clinging onto him to keep himself upright. It’s as he’s looking up, over Niall’s shoulder that Harry spots him.

“Ni,” Harry says, his voice urgent, “Ni – that’s Louis.”

“Huh?”

“Louis – Ni,” Harry moans.

“What?” Niall begins, “Yeah, that’s Louis...”

“Yeah,” Harry says but the rest of his sentence dies on his lips as he looks up. Louis is with another guy – _kissing_ another guy and Harry feels his heart deflate.

“Okay,” he sighs, blinking his eyes, “Okay.”

“Haz?”

“He’s kissing another guy.”

“Oh, Harry,” Niall says, pulling Harry in for another hug; standing there in the middle of the crowded dance floor until Harry gets his breathing back down to normal.

“Hey,” Niall begins, grasping Harry’s chin and pulling his gaze up towards his; “Let’s dance some more and drink ‘til you forget about him, yeah?”

Harry just sighs, before pulling Niall to the bar for another (unneeded) drink.

 

 

 **now.**  

Saturday afternoon is spend down by the lake, the sun shining across the rippling water as attempt to canoe without capsizing each other and getting yelled at by their troop leaders.

It’s the light breeze running through Harry’s hair as he gets endlessly splashed by Liam and Niall in the other canoe. It’s Louis trying to protect him and working as a (dream) team as they race across to the other side of the lake, grab the flag before anyone else gets the chance and raises it in victory.

It’s getting thrown in the deep, dirty water, spluttering as Liam and Niall stand in the grass, laughing at their own antics.

It’s Louis grabbing at Harry’s ankles under the water and pulling him down; shrieking in laughter (and surprise) they both surface, inches from each other.

It’s Louis’ gaze flickering down to Harry’s lips and his eyes shining in the low sun.

It’s Liam and Niall ruining the moment as they jump into the lake despite Simon’s shouts, ruining the moment completely but making a new one as they go.

 

When Harry wakes on a normal Saturday morning it’s to an empty bed which is surprisingly unusual, considering Louis had stayed over the night before. He guesses Louis is sitting on one of their kitchen stools with the pop tarts that are bought purely for him, chatting to Anne. Louis’ not usually an early-riser but alcohol always makes him wake up early unlike Harry and since they’d both gone and got spectacularly drunk last night, he supposes that is the case.

Harry still wonders, sometimes, if there will ever be anything between the two of them. He wonders if his pining will end like it does in those rom-coms he’s always convincing Louis to watch. He wonders if it’ll just fade and they’ll be best friends forever, setting each up up on dates and pretending like this didn’t happen. Like Harry was never in love with him.

Sighing, Harry throws an arm over his eyes, and gets out of bed, ready to go downstairs set to find his mum chatting to his best friend ahead of a weekend of nothing but xbox, crappy reality TV that they both secretly love and Harry cooking them dinner.  

 

With the campfire dying down in front of them and everyone gradually drifting off to bed, Harry almost falls asleep on Louis’ shoulder. Tucked up underneath his arm, warm and content, Harry sighs.

Their last night at camp, away from homework and parents, coursework and teachers. Away from prying siblings that never give them any time to themselves.

“Hey, Harry,” Louis says, his words slow and voice low; “I’m glad you crashed into me back at the Jamboree.”

Harry grins, staring up at louis from where he’s snuggled against his chest, “Yeah?” He says.

“Yeah,” Louis replies, his gaze heavy and there’s a fire burning in his eyes and Harry can’t look away.

His eyes still locked on Louis’ and they’re so close - Harry doesn’t remember straightening up but he has. The fire is still crackling behind them like electricity; a constant burn, and the leaves are rustling in the cool wind but Harry can ignore the goosebumps on his arms.

Louis reaches up and brushes back a strand of Harry’s hair and there’s the hint of a smile on his lips. Harry can’t help but let his lips stretch out into a small smile too before he’s leaning forward and pressing their lips together.

It’s soft and sweet and leaves Harry’s mind reeling; completely blank, as he moves his lips against Louis’, eyes closed.

They move in a steady rhythm - together. Harry finds his hands on Louis’ cheeks, cupping his face as he deepens the kiss, moving even closer. The grass is tickling against his ankles and the wind is blowing against his hair but all he can think of is Louis.

He’s breathless with his sparkling eyes wide open in awe when they finally pull away. He’s speechless, words stuck in his throat but his eyes still shine because Louis made him feel like this. Took the air from his chest and made him feel like he’s flying.

 

 

**then.**

Stumbling out of the front door, vodka long gone, Harry finds himself sitting down at the wall at the end of the driveway. He grabs the chain that’s hanging from his neck and gently fiddles with cross at the end as he stares up at the stars.

He doesn’t know exactly how long he sits there for, holding the cross against his chest, the dull thudding of the music from the house can still be heard. He startles when he hears the door slam behind him and stumbles to his feet, releasing the chain on his neck, letting it swing to a stop as it rests on his chest.

A boy stumbles down the stone pathway, shoulders hunched, hands clenched at his side, muttering to himself. As the boy gets closer, Harry automatically recognises his best friend.

“Hey, Lou,” Harry says, smiling as he comes over, sitting down next to Harry on the wall of some Upper Sixth’s house.

“Haz,” Louis says, moving closer to his best friend, practically draping himself in Harry’s lap; “Haz.”

“You okay?” Harry says, giggling at Louis’ antics.

“‘M just a bit drunk, is all,” Louis mutters, before pressing his face into Harry’s neck, his warm breath a sharp contrast to the cold of Harry’s skin.

“Lou?”

“I had - I think I had an apiphany, no, epiphany…” Louis says, voice slow and sure as if he’s making sure everything he says is perfect.

“Yeah?” Harry says, “What was your epiphany?”

“I don’t think I like girls all that much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, they’re like, they’re cool and everything, like, don’t get me wrong, but…”

“But?” Harry pushes, draping an arm around Louis’ shoulders.

“I think I’m more into guys.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You know it’s okay, right?” Harry asks.

“I know,” Louis says, “I know it’s okay to _be_ gay. I just - I don’t know. I don’t know how everyone will, like, you know, take it. That I’m just a poof.”

“No,” Harry says, “You’re not just a ‘ _poof_ ’. You’re amazing, Lou, you’re wonderful and funny and you’re my best friend and no one talks about my best friend like that.”

“Haz,” Louis starts, leaning into his shoulder; “Love you.”

“Love you, too, Lou,” Harry sighs, wrapping an arm around his best friend; “I love you, too.”

The two boys sit on the wall in silence, neither speaking a word as the stars shine above them. Harry can hear Louis breathing next to him as he fiddles with the cross on it’s chain once again.

Then all of a sudden, out of nowhere, Louis pressing himself forward, attaching his lips to Harry’s. Pressing forward and closer, pushing and pushing and pushing until they’re just a tangle of limbs and tongues. There are fingers tangled in curls and cold palms on warm hips; it’s passion and fire, heat underneath their lips. And it’s everything.

When Louis pulls back, he smiles like Harry is the sun and for one moment, Harry thinks that maybe, just maybe, this is it.

But then Louis’ leaning forward and the entire contents of his stomach end up on the floor and Harry thinks that, most probably, Louis won’t remember this in the morning.

 

 

**now.**

They’re on the coach with aching muscle but smiles on their faces when Louis turns to Harry. His hair’s a mess but his eyes are sparkling and there’s a grin on his face.

“Hey, Haz,” Louis whispers in the quiet coach, his breath fanning over Harry’s cheeks.

Harry hums in acknowledgement, “Lou?”

Louis just smiles, his eyes crinkling slightly but there’s a hint of nerves behind the spark; “You’ll be my boyfriend, right?”

“What?” Harry says slowly.

“Will you, like, be my boyfriend?,” Louis whispers, smiling, “Because I’m no good at being on my own.”

Harry feels a grin tug at his lips and he’s nodding before he realises what he’s doing; “Yeah,” he whispers, his voice rough, “Yeah, I’d love that.”

And maybe they fall asleep on the coach with Louis’ head resting on Harry’s shoulder and matching smiles on their faces.

 

 

**later.**

With the taste of chocolate on his tongue and the phantom pressure of Harry against his lips, Louis grins that sly wolfish grin. The air is humid, hot and sticky where they lay tangled together underneath the stars and the moon. The thick, prickly grass is itching against the back of Louis’ bare thighs, but he just threads his fingers through Harry’s soft curls and presses a soft, gentle kiss to the crown of his head.

There’s the hint of rain in the air; something’s that soon going to be unable to ignore. But Louis doesn’t want this moment to end, doesn’t want this time to ever come to a close.

 

 


End file.
